


we’re just trying to live in peace

by winter_angst



Series: Winter’s Keepers [10]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Betrayal, Forgiveness, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Repressed Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:55:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25964731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/pseuds/winter_angst
Summary: An unwelcome memory threatens to push Winter over the edge. Brock blames himself and wonders if Winter can ever forgive him.
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Series: Winter’s Keepers [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1229045
Comments: 12
Kudos: 33





	we’re just trying to live in peace

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the tags! And I hope you like it!

A morning of peace is a tall order when Winter’s around but Brock was relishing in it. Jack had gone out to run a few errands and no one had tagged along. Brock had two cups of coffee and no one had hovered over his shoulder yapping about how much Barton and Stark liked the stuff. He was able to tidy up the kitchen without Winter rushing around trying to help but shoving shit in the wrong places. 

It was nice. At first. 

Six AM turned to seven. Then eight. Eight became nine and now it was ten forty five and, well, Brock was getting more than a little worried. He knew Winter was in there, he’d crept near the cracked door and heard him mumbling to himself which, while fucking weird, was normal for him. He was here because the Avengers had some sort of bullshit mission and they weren’t about to leave Winter alone. Brock could agree with that; Winter was a lot of things but independent was not one of them yet. And that was their fault.

As eleven rolled around Jack let himself in. 

“I put the new mulch by the garden,” he announced tossing the keys into the bowl Brock had found at a department store. He used to despise shopping. Now it was the only thing to keep him busy between work and dealing with Winter. “They have the chicks finally. If you need more I can bring Win with me to get it. Bet he’d like to see them.”

“So he can guilt you into getting them and then I get stuck dealing with them?”

Jack grinned, setting the plastic bag aside. “Always such a pessimist.”

“Realist,” Brock corrected but accepted Jack’s kiss.

Brock rested his forehead on Jack’s shoulder, the sweet smell of mulch clinging to his shirt. They shared the quiet moment until Jack asked, “Where is he anyway?”

Brock pulled back eyeing the clock. “He’s been in his room. Maybe he’s working on a new army of rock people.”

“Did you check on him?”

“He’s not a kid, Jack. If he needs something he has no issue asking.”

Jack just rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll check.”

Brock sighed but tagged along. They were both surprised to find that the door was completely shut. Jaw set in worry Brock twisted the handle and peered inside. Winter was on the bed, still in his pajamas despite the hour but Brock hardly noticed it. His knees were drawn up to his chest and fingers tangled on his hair, forehead resting on his knees. 

In the field the Soldier had its fair share of meltdowns and at the safehouse Winter occasionally had fits of his own. But this… Brock couldn’t put a name to it. It was worse than when Winter came to their apartment. 

Jack, thankfully, snapped out his shock and took a step towards him. “Hey, Winnie, what’s going on?”

Winter made a keening noise, rocking in place. Brock hung back. He could barely handle his own emotions much less trying to unpack someone else’s. But they were Winter’s emotions so he knew he had to at least try; even if it was just so he could avoid the guilt. 

“Winter?” 

Winter jerked sharply, whipping his head around to stare at Brock. Thick strands of hair had been ripped out by the metal hand which had to hurt but Winter didn’t seem to be in pain. That within itself was unusual. Old conditioning of alerting his handler of any injuries had stuck around so Brock got to hear about every bump and scrape he got while galavanting the woods. 

“Why did you hurt us?” 

Brock drew back at that, mouth quirked one confusion. So far the visit hadn’t been too much of a headache and Brock hadn’t snapped once. Maybe it was an old memory of Brock smacking him with a stun baton or leading him to the chair. It made his stomach churn with nausea. 

“What are you talking about?” Jack sat on the end of the bed, frowning with that concerned look Brock loved to hate although it was nice to see he cared.

“You weren’t there,” Winter rasped. “I-I wasn’t there but the Soldier… The Soldier remembered.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You hurt it...us...with second in command Sitwell. You weren’t there for Command Heeley but you were-were there for-for-for…” he trailed over and tucked back into himself whispering, “Why’d you make me see, why’d you make me see, why’d you make me see…”

Brock had an out of body experience, memories of that night hitting him in a tangled tidal wave of guilt. “Brock?”

Brock was sucked back to the present where Jack was looking at him. Brock knew he had to explain himself, justify what he had done, but not in front of Winter. 

“I did what I had to do, Winter. So I could become Command and protect you.” Brock swallowed hard, unsure if he dared to approach. His chest ached and he wanted to grovel for the first time in his life. “I… I had to Winter.”

Winter shook his head hard. “You found us, you brought us to them...you…” Winter sucked in a big breath. “She didn’t. She wouldn’t. Why did you?”

“Brock?” Jack said firmly, clearly seeking an explanation. 

“I — it wasn’t you Winnie. It was the Soldier and the Soldier, it can take a lot of damage right?”

“Not that kind of damage. It-it’s a Weapon not-not a toy.” Winter returned to his rocking and by the hardened look in Jack’s eyes he had pieced it together.

Brock retreated a step, arms crossed uncomfortably. It wasn’t that he expected to never face his crimes against Winter or the Soldier, there was just never a way to plan for it. 

“How about we talk about it.” Jack suggested. “Just you and me.”

That was Brock’s dismissal. He left the room and a cold sensation spread through him. Unwanted memories from that night played behind his eyelids like some demented stop motion film. He had reflected on that night before. When he was crowned Commander he had looked at it as a necessary evil — which it was. But now he wasn’t so sure that Jack would agree. He’d been open with him since they moved from teammates to something more but he had never elaborated on what he had done. 

There was a chance that he had lost Winter’s trust completely and that made him feel so numb. His coffee was still hot but it didn’t provide any warmth to him. He directed a thousand yard stare at the wall where Jack had insisted a stupid rustic sign that said ‘What the’ with a fork beneath it. It was humor that was typically below Jack but something about it had stuck. 

Brock began to wonder if Jack thought he was a monster. Of course, they were both monsters, especially by the rest of the world’s standards, but they had lines they would not cross. Or, at least, Jack did. Brock rubbed his hand over his face, and then through his hair. He was never one to fidget but here he was, anxiously wondering if it was possible to earn Winter’s forgiveness and if his relationship with Jack was going to be drastically affected. 

When he heard Jack coming down the steps he jumped to his feet and scooped up both coffee mugs, bringing them to the sink to appear busy. 

“He wants to go home. I called Steve. They just got back yesterday evening.”

Or maybe he was about to be murdered by a super soldier. It seemed fitting. 

“Okay.”

Jack sighed heavily through his nose. “I’m not about to tell you it’s okay.” Jack approached him, an arm wrapping around his shoulders that felt fucking nice. Brock’s eyes prickled with tears. “I get why you did it but that doesn’t mean he will. He’s...sensitive.”

Sensitive. Brock never thought that would apply to the Fist of Hydra but it did. That didn’t make him feel any better. 

“He’s never going to trust me again.”

“Maybe.” Typically Brock liked the fact Jack didn’t coddle him but right now it would have been nice to have someone assure him it would be okay. “He’ll let you know where you stand when he’s ready. There’s nothing more you can do about it so relax.”

“Easier said than done.” Brock fought so hard to keep his voice steady but then, at the end, his voice cracked.

Jack sighed heavily again and pulled him into a hug. Brock pressed his face into Jack’s chest and wondered how a fucked up monster like himself could ever redeem himself in the eyes of his victim. It didn’t seem possible. 

•• •• •• ••

Winter didn’t mind sitting with Lucky while Clint ran errands. 

It was too hot for Lucky to walk on the pavement so Winter spent the afternoon petting him carefully, watching him gnaw on a bone. He was trying his best not to think about the memory the Soldier had shown him. But it seemed the harder he tried not to think about it, the more he remembered. He remembered the Commander finding him, bringing him to the other agents, stripping him and watching while they hurt him. And then he had hurt him too. 

“I don’t understand why,” Winter whispered. 

Lucky looked up from the bone for a moment and Winter thought he was equally confused. At least he wasn’t the only one. 

•• •• •• ••

It’s not that Steve doesn’t notice something is up with Winter, he just, frankly, doesn’t care. It wasn’t sheer assholery, Winter had a habit of making a big deal about everything. Maybe an animal died in one of the copious documentaries he watched, maybe Natasha set him off by asking for alone time with her boyfriend. It was always the little things and that bothered Steve.

So Winter skulking about with that kicked puppy look was nothing new. Steve had his own issues to worry about. Paperwork, some gala Stark had decided Steve was attending, Bucky coming back… A full plate with no space for whatever petty problem Winter was going through. And he wasn’t sorry because he didn’t need to be. Winter was an adult, regardless of how immature he acted. It was strange to have him back so soon but Steve didn’t linger on it. It annoyed him, sure, but irritants were best ignored. 

He was perfectly content to ignore Winter for the rest of his stay but when he came back for a run, Winter was there, picking at fray on the cuff of his sweater. 

“Steve?”

“What?”

“Did you… Did you ever forgive the Commander?”

“No.” Steve was firm in that. Letting Winter go there was a mercy for Steve but it didn’t mean he liked the man. He’d never forgive Rumlow for what he did to Bucky — for the mess of a man he’d created. Same went for Rollins. 

Winter looked wounded. “Can I?”

“That’s your choice.” Steve stepped around him, hoping the dismissal of the issue was obvious. He was uncomfortable talking about it, even to this day. He felt stupid and betrayed. 

Shuffling footsteps followed him to the kitchen and Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why don’t you ask someone else for advice.”

Winter quiet a minute and said, “okay.”

His shuffling steps retreated and Steve shook his head. He couldn’t for the life of him understand what through his head. 

•• •• •• ••

When Winter entered the lab, the robots abandoned their task to circle around him. Tony was working on one of his cars but paused to greet him. 

“What’s up? You’re looking glum. I thought Steve said you were with Rumlow?”

“The commander hurt us once. I don’t know if I’m allowed to forgive him.”

“While you were there?”

Winter shook his head. “Before… When it was just the Soldier. But it made me remember.” Winter shied from the ‘bots attention. “It...it makes me feel not good.”

Tony rubbed a hand over his face. “Well yeah, I bet a lot of stuff that happened before feels not good.”

Winter felt cold. “This feels extra not good.”

“Do you want to tell me what the bad thing was?”

Winter shook his head violently. If he told, everyone would be angry with the Commander and he didn’t want that. He just wanted to understand but things were so complicated. His head hurt but so did his heart. Tony set aside his tool and stood up. 

“Okay, well, it happened to the Soldier right?”

Winter inclined his head in confirmation. 

“Maybe use your little journal thing and get his opinion.”

“It.”

“It,” Tony agreed. “Maybe it can help you decide. And if you decide not to, don’t worry. We won’t let him hassle you.”

Winter tried to smile but he hurt too much inside. He went back to Steve’s floor and into the Soldier and his bedroom. The black leather bound journal sat exactly where he left and he opened it up to the last message left by Bucky in response to Winter telling him that water turtles shed pieces of their shell. Bucky had said: cool. And that was better than Steve saying he was too busy to hear about turtle facts. 

•• •• •• ••

can we forgive the commander

THE COMMANDER IS NO LONGER PART OF HYDRA

but he likes me us

WE NEED TO FIND A NEW COMMANDER

i don’t want a new one

•• •• •• ••

Winter could hardly believe he had written those words. He was careful not to voice his wishes too loudly, he wasn’t useful like the Soldier so the Soldier made most of their decisions. But he didn’t want a new Commander. He liked Brock. 

No, it wasn’t a like, it was more than that. Brock was one of the only people in the world who liked him and didn’t think he was a nuisance like Steve. 

If the Commander said he had to, Winter trusted that. So he fumbled around with the cellphone he had, the background was a photo taken at Christmas in front of the big tree. Jack was smiling and so was Winter and the Commander was half smiling which was more than enough. He felt only a little queasy looking at it but as he reminded himself that Brock had to hurt the Soldier to protect them later on, the feeling went away.

It was hard to type with one hand but Winter was able to tediously text Brock: it’s ok. I forgive you.

**Author's Note:**

> If you are curious about the referenced memory I actually wrote a fic about it! It is called Good Intentions but I am not nearly tech savvy enough for link it 😭😂


End file.
